Don't leave me
by MadameSutcliff
Summary: Matthew is sick, like really sick. His brother Francis and his beloved Gilbert are by his side, but can they help him at all? Slight language and mild yaoi, PruCan, not a good summary. The story is better, but a bit cliche as usual.


**I know you guys are probably sick of all these one shots out of me, I know I need to be working on my big stories, but I just keep wanting to so one shots, I'm sorry Dx I promise I'm going to start back on my others soon! Anyway, this is sad, like major sad. Sorry for feel breaking. It's rated for some language and mention of sexytimes, and character death, which was hard to write. I've been feeling a bit down lately so writing this made me feel a bit better in some ways. So, enjoy I hope, and I don't own hetalia. **

"He's right in here. He's been asking for you. He may be sleeping right now, if he is please let him rest; he needs his strength."

Gilbert nodded numbly at the brunette nurse who had quietly led him back to Matthew's room. Everything was quiet in this damn place, it was deafening and eerie, it made the hair on the back of Gilbert's neck stand on end.

It made this whole thing seem so much more real.

All the white surrounding him in the empty hallway almost made him feel as if he was suffocating; it was positively blinding, especially to an albino such as himself. The door gleamed innocently at him, the light brown wood and silver doorknob the only splash of color against a stark background, yet it was the starkest thing in the entire place. Or rather, what was behind it.

Gilbert reached out for the handle but hesitated; he wasn't sure he could do this, wasn't sure if he was ready. Had it really just been two weeks ago, the day at the park they had? The sun was shining, birds were chirping (Gilbird enjoyed himself), it was beautiful, it was perfect. Then Matthew stood to pull a small red flower from a tree above their head; he handed it down to Gilbert, saying how beautiful it was, just like his eyes. Matthew's own violet orbs were shining happily. And that's when Gilbert did it. Shifting so he was kneeling on one knee, he pulled a maroon velvet box from his pocket and took Matthew's left hand loosely in his own; Matthew's eyes grew to the size of golf balls and he pressed his free hand to his mouth, gasping softly. Gilbert opened the box and revealed a beautiful golden ring set with a ruby and some smaller amber colored stones, and on the inside of the band was engraved a small German cross, and the phrase 'ich liebe dich'. After a moment of Matthew's adorably shocked expression, Gilbert verbalized his request to the northern nation, and with no hesitation Matthew nodded, unable to speak just then, and tackled the German man in a hug, tears of joy streaming down his face. The spent the rest of the day there, laughing and kissing and holding each other under the gentle glow of the sunlight, then watched as the large fiery orb set behind the trees, streaking the sky with a beautiful array of colors as if in celebration of the pair's engagement. They went back to their small yet cozy apartment and made love to each other in a way they never had before; it was truly as if the two were becoming one in mind, body and soul. The connection they had and the bond they shared was a thing of wonders, and the elation they felt at a forever together was overwhelming in an astounding way; it was a magical thing, a bright spark that engulfed them, and they hoped it never went out.

That was two days before the incident that began the short yet horrible road that led them to where they are now.

It was a normal morning; Matthew was in the kitchen making the pancakes his fiancé demanded every single morning; Gilbert was at the table drinking his coffee and watching their pets romp and frolic in the floor, and of course watching his beloved move about, cooking and humming a soft Canadian tune. All was right in the world.

Then it all happened.

_Matthew collapsed; fell to the ground, dead to the world._

_He wouldn't wake up; he didn't even seem to be breathing. His skin went ice cold._

_The ambulance came and whisked them both away (Gilbert was not letting them leave without him.)_

_They arrived at the hospital; Gilbert filled out paperwork and waited._

_And waited. _

_And waited. _

_Finally the doctor came out, a grim look to his gray features. _

_He uttered a single word, at least that's all Gilbert heard before his brain shut down. _

"_Cancer."_

_A few days later, more tests were run, more waiting, more words; words that made things even worse. _

"_Aggressive. Spreading. Too Late. No Time. Nothing to do. Make him comfortable. Prepare for the end."_

_Nein. Nein nein nein nein. Not him. Not birdie, not Matthew, not my beloved Canada. _

_But it was happening, it was real, it was hopeless. And it made him sick in the worst ways. _

Gilbert couldn't prevent the tears from falling; this was fucking ridiculous; he never cried, not even when he'd been locked in Russia's basement, behind the berlin wall. No, he hadn't cracked, he wouldn't crack, he was stronger than that.

But this. How could he do this? How would he survive?

He had no answer.

His thoughts were interrupted as the door to Matthews room was pushed open slowly; he turned to see Francis, his best friend and Matthew's older brother, exiting the room, looked worn and defeated, the usual sparkle in his bright blue eyes totally absent, his hair dull and lank. He didn't notice Gilbert at first, but when he did he threw his arms around the shorter nation and the two of them immediately broke down, clinging to each other. Never in a million years is this something they ever imagined would happen, especially in just two short weeks. How? When? _Why? _

Francis pulled away from his friend a bit, squeezing his shoulder encouragingly and smiling a little with great effort. When he spoke, his voice was soft and hoarse.

"What is it Poland always says? Rise up like the phoenix?"

Gilbert nodded, roughly wiping his tears away. "Sure, but I prefer an eagle."

Francis smirked and hugged Gilbert tightly. "He's awake; he's been asking for you."

"You going home for a bit?" Gilbert questioned.

Francis shook his head. "Non, I'm going to get some coffee. I'm not going to leave him; it's been a bad day."

Gilbert felt his eyes welling up again. "How bad is bad?"

Francis didn't answer; rather he patted Gilbert's shoulder and nodded towards the door. "I will be back soon. Go, he's waiting for you." Then he turned and slumped down the hallway towards the elevator.

Gilbert placed his hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath as he turned it; he feared the sight he would be greeted with. He slowly pushed the door open and stepped into Matthew's large room, forcing his lips to curl into a small smile as his eyes met those crystal lavender ones he loved so much; they made his heart positively melt.

It was strange the way his eyes contrasted with the rest of his appearance; he looked more sickly than Gilbert ever thought a person could look. He was a no more than a skeleton covered in a thin almost translucent layer of skin; the sickness had ravaged his body and eaten away his muscles, and was working rapidly on his organs with each tick of the clock.

He wasn't hooked up to anything beyond a thin IV line that pumped clear fluid into his fragile veins; the area where the needle was had become an alarmingly deep purple bruise that looked black against his pallid skin. That was all there was to him anymore, for his hair was all gone. They'd tried some aggressive chemo that made Matthew feel so sick he begged them to stop, and once they saw it wouldn't do him any good they did, placing him on what could be considered hospice.

Gilbert cursed himself and his thoughts. He'd been avoiding all those words. Hospice, the end, passing, dead, death, dying. All of it.

But it was here, it was happening, and he could deny it no longer.

He had little time but he was damn determined to make the best of it.

He strode over to Matthew's bed and sat down in the chair next to his head; He very carefully brushed Matthew's icy cheek with the back of his hand, but the sick man winced anyway; any little touch hurt him terribly.

"Sorry Birdie." Gilbert croaked, smiling gently at his beloved. "How are you feeling?"

Matthew coughed weakly, moaning in pain, but smiled back nonetheless and despite the tears stinging his eyes. "Been better. What about you bear?" His voice, always so soft as it was, could barely be heard now.

"I'm okay I suppose." Gilbert said, gazing into his lovers eyes. "I missed you last night."

"I know you did amour, but you had to go home and rest. You never sleep here." Matthew wheezed.

Gilbert shook his head. "The view is too beautiful to close my eyes."

Matthew rolled his eyes slightly. "Why do you always say things like that?"

The albino very carefully took Matthew's hand in his, gazing into his eyes lovingly. "Because it's true Mattie; you are amazing."

Matthew grinned widely despite his illness. "Kiss me."

Gilbert smile fell a little. "You know I can't do that baby, I'll hurt you-"

"I don't care." Matthew cut him off in a breathy whisper then broke off, coughing painfully and taking a few moments to catch his breath. "Everything hurts me; I at least want it to be something I enjoy."

Gilbert just stared at his beloved for a bit before nodding; he wasn't going to deny his precious Birdie anything at this point.

He leaned down and very softly kissed Matthew, slipping his tongue into the smaller man's parted lips and deepening the kiss as much as he could without causing harm to him. After only a few seconds they broke apart, Matthew coughing and gasping for air, his face flushed, but once he'd calmed his destroyed body down his eyes seemed a little brighter.

"Thank you." He breathed, his eyes slipping closed and his breathing slowing a bit; he hardly had the energy to remain awake for more than a few minutes anymore and the talking and kissing had drained any strength he had, leaving him exhausted.

Francis re-entered the room with two cups of coffee and handed one to Gilbert, eyeing Matthew's sleeping form sadly.

"How was he with you?"

Gilbert sipped the dark coffee before speaking. "As well as can be expected I guess."

Francis just nodded; they were silent for a while, not wanting to wake Matthew up. Eventually they began chatting softly about various things, perhaps trying to keep their minds focused on anything but what they were facing just then.

All hope of distraction was abandoned when a blonde male nurse came for the afternoon rounds to take Matthew's vitals; when he finished examining the patient he flipped through Matthew's chart worriedly before turning to Francis and speaking with a heavy accent. "Stay here for a moment, I will be right back." He abruptly left the room before the two had time to say anything; they exchanged nervous glances and waited anxiously. They didn't have to wait for long, for about that time the nurse reappeared with the doctor who had been overseeing Matthew's care. The two spoke rapidly in some language that neither the Frenchman nor the German understood; it sounded like some sort of Nordic tongue. The doctor pressed his fingers to the inside of Matthew's thin wrist for a few seconds before turning to Gilbert and Francis. "I'm afraid I have some bad news; Matthew's heart rate has slowed tremendously, and his lung function has decreased as well."

Gilbert gulped nervously, taking his best friends hand in his own and squeezing it before asking that terrible question he already knew the answer to.

"So what does that mean?"

The doctor lowered his head. "It means he is on his way out; you best wake him up and say your goodbyes, you have a few moments I think. I shall leave you three alone for a bit." He and the nurse ducked out of the room and immediately Gilbert gently shook Matthew awake. The Canadian roused ever so slightly, his breathing light and shallow, his eyes barely opened. But he still managed to smile up at the two of them. They each took one of his hands in their own and smiled back at his despite the tears blurring their eyes. Francis leaned down and kissed his little brothers forehead gently and squeezed his hand. "Bonjour mon petiteMatthieu . Je t'aime, toujours."

Matthew squeezed back the best he could. "Je t'aime, toujours." He whispered slowly, and Francis stepped away from him, allowing Gilbert and him to share his final moments as something special between the two of them.

Gilbert wasn't at all composed like Francis; tears were streaming down his face and he was barely holding himself together. Matthew shook his head at him a bit, closing his eyes and smiling softly.

"Bear, you know I hate seeing you cry. You're too beautiful for tears." Matthew choked a bit and a small whine escaped his throat. Gilbert leaned closer to him and cupped his cheek with his hand.

"Oh Birdie." Gilbert clutched the other's hand tighter and kissed his sweet soft lips one final time, then got what would be his last look into those gorgeous amethyst eyes. He made the moment last for as long as he possibly could; savoring it, mentally taking a picture of his beautiful Mattie that he could hopefully hold on to forever. All the same, he lifted Matthew's hand and placed it over his own chest, directly above his heart. "Can you feel it?"

"Mm." Matthew nodded ever so slightly, sighing in content. "Beautiful." He whispered.

"Birdie, Matthew Williams, I will love you, forever, for the rest of my days. I will never ever forget you." Gilbert drew in a shaky breath then his voice dropped to a strangled whisper. "Please..do you have to go?"

"I'm sorry Gil. Love..you.." Matthew's eyes slowly began to close and Gilbert's heart dropped into his stomach; this was really it, the love of his life was leaving him.

"Mattie, don't go, please." He pleaded softly. However, it was too late.

Gilbert just stared at him for a long moment, the lifeless body that was once that of his beautiful love. He knew it was over but he just couldn't bring himself to move or let go of the hand he still held to his chest, although it was completely limp now. He just stared, unmoving, until he felt a hand on his shoulder; Francis.

"Gilbert, it's okay." He said softly. Gilbert finally tore his eyes away, finally let go, and he stood and fell against his best friend and cried. He cried and cried in the taller man's arms until he exhausted himself so much that he began to fall asleep, and Francis carried him down the hallway to a lounge room for family of patients to rest comfortably. Francis laid him down and covered the albino, who was now fast asleep, with a soft blanket. He then pulled the ring out of his pocket; the very same ring Gilbert had given Matthew when he asked him to marry him. Francis slipped it on Gilbert's pinkie finger, knowing he would find it and be comforted when he woke.

"Just rest mon ami, everything will be alright, we will see this through, together."

With that Francis crawled into the bed next to Gilberts, making sure he would be there when his friend awoke, and drifted off to sleep.

**I couldn't end this, like I couldn't figure out how to. Bleh. Oh well, I hope you liked it and that you didn't cry reading it as much as I did writing it. Please let me know what you think! Ciao! **


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